Coquet
by Chiriru
Summary: To flirt, To dally. A lazy afternoon in the barn turned into the beginnings of mutual attractions. Set right after Metamorph0sis. Chlark CSxCK Reporter


AN: It's kind of a missing scene type thing, I guess. Set after Metamorphasis. This is how Clark KNEW about her song in "Tempest" I suppose, and uhm. Other fuffles. Thanks to Mark for suggesting the hay. And to Gemma for giving it a plot a look see while my beta's were out and about. And yes, lame me, included "Perfect Memory" lyric. HEE.  
  
Def. of coquet - to engage in coquetry; flirt or to trifle; dally  
  
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"Coquet"  
  
by Chiri  
  
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He climbed into what should of been an empty barn. It has been only a few hours since he had defeated Greg Arkin, his former friend. The happenings were starting to... happen more often. Maybe Chloe was right, maybe the wall WAS true.  
  
When he got to the top, however, he saw a familiar blonde pacing across the room. He couldn't help but grin.  
  
"I haven't seen you in a while."  
  
She turned her head, golden hair tousled. She flashed him one of her killer smiles, and for an instant beauty and attraction weren't named Lana Lang.  
  
"Oh yes, because yesterday was so long ago.. you know, you really need a sofa or something up here," she said, plucking a Red Delicious out of a crate.  
  
"Right, working on it as we speak," he retorted. He pulled out two older trunks for them to sit on. She tossed the apple in the air before catching it lightly in her palm. As she sat down, she lightly raked her finger nails over the red fruit, pursing her lips slightly. The hanging pause in the crisp fall air wasn't unpleasant, but it wasn't normal... for them.  
  
"I...uh.... I didn't see you Friday."  
  
"Yeah, you know.. something's came up.. I had already said that-- You were expecting me?"  
  
The pause faded in for a moment, before she came back. Her eyes were still focused on the fruit in her hand, one of her fingers digging into it's skin.  
  
"Well, I kind of needed a break from Pete's antics. And lack of Fred Astaire dancing."  
  
"Right," he agreed. Pete tried to be many things but a world class dancer he wasn't. Clark glanced around the loft for a few moments, his eyes noting the faint imprints still on the ceilings. "So... I haven't heard YOUR version of the dance yet."  
  
She tossed him the scratched apple at him. He caught it, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Unlike a certain mutual friend, I don't kiss and tell."  
  
He felt his eyes widen, and he almost squished the fruit in his hand.  
  
"Pete KISSED you?!?" His jaw tightened, slightly. It was odd. Sure Chloe had kissed him, but.. but Pete kissing Chloe? It was odd and unnerving and something he had never thought would happen. A surge of feelings, none of them quite describable, swelled in his chest.  
  
Her eyes were as wide as saucers, partially to his outburst. She put her hands out in front of her and made sort of a "out" type baseball motion while shaking her head furiously.  
  
"Noooo. That would just be odd. Just...NO. No. That would be weird. No Clark, he didn't kiss me..."  
  
"Oh, it was a matter of expression." He wasn't sure why he felt relieved at her reaction. But he was and he inhaled deeply, enjoying the calming feeling. She nodded happily, with a slight grin.  
  
"Right, right."  
  
"I mean, it would be like kissing me." he offered. "Just odd, weird, and stuff." He looked again at her blinking eyes and her sputtering response. And for a moment he wondered if to kissing her (again) would be such a bad thing even. It could even be quite enjoyable.  
  
She stopped her fish impression and glanced at the floor, letting out a little snort. Sarcasm he didn't pick up on dripped out of her response.  
  
"Right Clark. I mean, kissing you would be odd." She rolled her eyes.  
  
"Weird," he supplied. He bit his lip, watching her despondently. But maybe she didn't think that way. And that was probably good. The whole 'friends with benefits' wasn't a route they should pursue, even if it was only him who wondered.  
  
"But... you were waiting for me?"  
  
"Well, yeah. I mean, I heard that a certain raven locked cheerleader promised a dance. Didn't think you'd not show."  
  
"Ah." Now he stared at the apple.  
  
"Soo... what DID Pete do to get slapped?" All he could hear was quiet murmurs as she bent her head and her hair covered her face.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I said, I was still searching for a euphemism for 'grabbed my ass.'"  
  
The apple rolled down the steps making loud noises on its way down.  
  
"You're... you're kidding." He looked at her expression, looked for any form of humor hiding in her face.  
  
She flailed out her arms.  
  
"Oh yes, I look like I'm kidding."  
  
"Pete. Our friend. Pinched your butt?"  
  
"Yeah, Clark. I have no idea why but, he did. Claimed it was a friend- friend thing. Yeah-uh-huh. Pete the cop-a-feel-of-your-friend friend type thing."  
  
She leaned out the opening, sun shining down on her. Once again her gold hair started to shimmer, standing out against her black T-shirt. She tilted her face to the setting rays, soaking up the light.  
  
"Hm."  
  
He stood after her, glancing. Not seeing, not knowing. Not acknowledging, even. Just... a subtle realization that his friend in his loft was all too female yet again. And that he couldn't be out done by Peter Ross.  
  
"So... you know, I was kind of out there waiting and he was all 'Let's go in' and- CLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARK!"  
  
Loud laughter came from him, followed by playful slaps from her. She back stepped trying to keep looking him in the face. Clark watched as Chloe started going down the steps backwards in a failing effort to back up.  
  
"You're worse than him!"  
  
"No, I get where he was coming from!" He flashed a 'Kent Charm' grin at her and quickly closed the gap between them. Sometimes having 'gifts' came in quite handy.  
  
"AAAAAAAAAAACK. Clark, serious cut it out.... EEEP! Stop! Stop it! You are SO going to get bitch-slapped, sucker."  
  
Chloe laughed as she high-tailed it down the steps and then across the barn to one of the tractors. Clark followed, picking up a flannel shirt that was lying on one of the banisters. He twirled it taut in his hands as she made a gasping noise. A slight whap and a small shriek happened before Chloe started putting more distance between them, temporarily using his mother as a shield once she had walked into the Fortress.  
  
Martha Kent raised her eyebrow once more to the familiar horse-play as she had Chloe ducking around her.  
  
"Oh no you don't! I am *not* getting involved in this," she warned.  
  
"Yeah Chlo'! Let go of my mom!"  
  
The editor stuck out her tongue and sprinted away, her son half tackling her to get to the other teen. She ignored the loud crashes continued about her business, keeping out of Chloe and Clark's way. She stepped out before Chloe had ran to the apple crate again, the editor getting a particularly sneaky look as she grabbed some of the apples. Clark noticed a bit to late.  
  
"Ouch. Chlo! Apples aren't ammunition." He mock rubbed at his upper bicept as she continued to perfect her pitching arm.  
  
"They are when you keep snapping me with your shirt!" She ducked behind the crate as a flash of color came towards her followed by a crack as the cotton snapped off the wood.  
  
She grinned and blew raspberries at him while he re-rewound the shirt. He narrowed his eyes at her slightly trying not to laugh at her face.  
  
"You know you'd be a whole lot cuter if your eyes weren't crossed like that," he commented at her. She tossed her last apple up in the air again and caught it.  
  
"You know your farm boy charms might go a whole lot further if it didn't come with those farmyard smells."  
  
Clark blinked at her as she winked and threw the apple squarely in his chest. He gave a quizzical look down at his shirt and then at her. She tried to take off again but his arm engulfed her and tossed her into the hay pile. Chloe sat up abruptly, shaking her head. A couple of pieces of stray hay stuck out of her hair and she looked over to him in disbelief.  
  
"Now, who smells like a farmyard, eh Chlo'?" he inquired, tossing his extra shirt back towards the loft and walking over he offered a hand to his fallen comrade.  
  
"Oooh, you!" she exclaimed. She pulled hard on his hand, dragging the boy down. Chloe, not to be out done, promptly tackled him. She grasped his larger wrists over his head, holding them with her smaller hands as she was perched over his stomach.  
  
"Pinned ya! Oh yeah!" she told him exuberantly. She laughed at him, part of her knowing that he could change the status at any time.  
  
Clark hadn't started to struggle when something seemed to change with the setting of the sun. The snarky smirk on her lips transformed into something more contemplative and for the second time in that day he couldn't help but think of kissing her again.  
  
"Clark? Chloe? Are you guys still in there?" his father called.  
  
Alarmed she let go of his hands immediately, and he propped himself up on his elbows.  
  
"Yeah dad! What is it?"  
  
"Your mother has chocolate chip cookies ready for the both of you, if you guys can stop messing around long enough to come inside," the voice of Jonathon Kent replied.  
  
Chloe seemed to snap up and pulled him up along with her. She brushed herself off haphazardly as he laughed.  
  
"What?" she asked, still brushing down.  
  
"You've got some hay right... there." he told her, pulling the offending piece out. "But don't think because of cookies that we have a truce, Sullivan." He pulled her to him in a half headlock, giving her noogies.  
  
"HEY! STOOOOOOP!" She smoothed down her hair and glared before walking away. He followed after her, his hand creeping lower. A low growl came from her throat  
  
"Claaaaaaaaaaaark."  
  
Before he knew it, she lunged at him. Tickling and playful pinching, Chloe Sullivan was relentless.  
  
"Okay! OKAY! Mercy!" he admitted, laughing.  
  
The pair had hustled in, all grins. Chloe snagged the plate of cookies while Clark 'stole' two glasses and the milk bottle. The walk back to the barn was full of nonsensical chatter and comfortable silences. At the top of the loft, Chloe set down the plate while Clark poured the 'moo juice.' Sliding down to the floor, back to back, they munched in quiet silence.  
  
"I told you that you need a couch in here," she said, leaning against his larger frame. His shirt was now being used at her pillow as she tried to get comfortable.  
  
"Yeah... but he really just grabbed your ass like that?" He didn't think Pete would just up and do that... but then again. He tried to play off as he was reaching for another cookie but moved his hand slightly further back.  
  
"Yes, like you HAVEN'T been all day. And if you don't move your hand in about five seconds, my foot is gonna be on the back of yours."  
  
"Heh... right Chlo." His larger palm went back towards the plate for another chocolate delight.  
  
"So, where were you?" He could hear the question and the concern in her voice. He shrugged, then realized she couldn't see.  
  
"I was... uh... strung up. Just a little."  
  
"....Does it have anything to do with a lack of outer clothing or a can of red paint?" She turned her head to look over her shoulder, both of their cheeks meeting.  
  
"I'm just happy that Whitney never was a boy scout."  
  
"Oh...Clark... I uh..," her voice tinged with guilt.  
  
"Don't...don't worry about it Chloe. I'm not.. I'm not letting it drag me down. ...Before they grabbed me, I actually thought it was you who was tailing me for running out on the wall."  
  
She tried not to giggle.  
  
"Well the wall does take some getting used to. Pete kind of screamed the first time too. I don't know why. It's not really THAT frightening, is it?"  
  
He chuckled silently and shook his head. The biggest scare was just the fact that she had collected so much in such a short time. That everything looked fine and then three legged goats and mysteriously switching fingers were right in your face.  
  
"I did kind of sneak to the dance a bit later. Lana was dong her spotlight dance and you were getting all twirly."  
  
Her voice softened.  
  
"I would of happily let you cut in."  
  
He nodded.  
  
"I didn't want to interrupt."  
  
She stood quietly, moving over to his boom box, pressing his CD player on. She took out his "Lifehouse" CD and put in Remy Zero's "The Golden Hum," which she had lent him. She browsed through the selection before giggling a little bit as she made her choice.  
  
"I'm not Lana Lang, this isn't Homecoming. And I don't have a pretty dress on. But..."  
  
He stood, slowly, understanding. He offered his hand to her, exaggerating a bow, pleased to hear her quiet laughter.  
  
"May I have this dance, ma'lady?"  
  
"Certainly, kind sir."  
  
Her palm met his seamlessly, as he put his other hand on the small of her back, pulling her close. Her smile beamed up from the fading twilight and he felt a similar one spreading across his own face. They danced closely, close enough that she moved her hands around his neck, and he moved his other hand down to her hip. It was slow, quiet.. peaceful feeling. Contentment.  
  
"You looked great out there Chlo,'" he whispered into her hair and he felt just... happy.  
  
"Just... just dance, Clark." she said, enjoying the moment and not wanting to clutter it up with messy conversations.  
  
// and i'll remember you and the things we used to do and the things we used to say i'll remember you that way  
  
if it don't hurt you it won't hurt me i know\\  
  
-fin- 


End file.
